A Little Probie Payback
by puppypants
Summary: Tag to Judgement Day. Part 2. Set during season 5 or 6. Complete with McNozzo Bromance. To be taken lightly.
1. Chapter 1

Just a little two-part quickie that ends with some McNozzo bromance. I wrote this story with intentions to deal with the way DiNozzo treated McGee when Directer Shepard died, so place it in season 5 or 6.

Hope to work on the "-Bond" story next but very busy with some other writing projects and plus...it's summer! here in New England. If you're following the "Lost-" story and it disappears, you can find updates at NFA.

References:

Singer- Bob Marley - Song- Feel All Right

Clint Eastwood - American actor

xxxx

McGee sat at his desk and rubbed his eyes vigorously not sure why he was unable to focus on his screen. No matter how forcefully he rubbed them it remained consistently blurry. There was an occasional wave that rippled through the picture that unnerved him. He had missed dinner the night before and breakfast that morning so chalked it up as part of the reason for his abnormal state. He could faintly hear Abby's voice but it seemed so far away. And why did the polka dots on her skirt protrude like she was in a 3-D movie?

"McGee! McGee! The show is tonight…" Tim closed his eyes to internally wish her voice to come to a screeching halt. She waved her hands and the room began to spin. Her ponytails began to flap and the polka dots on her dress now resembled strobe lights. They flashed with a relentless vengeance. She was like a bad carnival ride…complete with the queasy feeling you almost always acquire after you devour the greasy, carnival food.

He squeezed his eyes closed as he continued to rub his forehead, "This ride has got to… stop!" His mumbled words ended on an exclamation.

"What, McGee!? I want you to answer my question-"

"Abby. McGee looks like he has a headache. Give him a break." Ziva said.

Tony turned his attention from his computer to McGee and studied his probie. Worry instantly clouded his thoughts. Tim's face was a deep red and his forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat. Something was undoubtedly wrong. He was in some kind of distress and Tony developed an uneasy sense of alarm. He wanted to ignore the situation…to hope it away. He didn't like to reveal concern for someone he cared about in public and he had no interest in displaying any right now, at least not with everyone around. He would just find a way to get Ducky up here…pronto. He snatched the phone from its cradle and tapped at the keys.

He talked to Tim as he dialed. "What's with your …. eyes, McQueasy? You're liable to rub them right out of your head-uh, Palmer?" Tony turned so he was able to continue his conversation with Jimmy in private as he began to whisper. "Could you get Ducky up here? What do you mean he's in the little boys' room?"

"No, Tony-…uh, Tony?" Tony was turned away so McGee continued to talk to no one in particular. "I don't know what's wrong. I took my meds for my ear infection this morning…but I feel …weird. I think I'm just really hungry...or something."

Tim remembered Abby when he spotted her flailing about still near his desk. "You're still here? What do you need Abby?" McGee looked at her impatiently with half-closed eyes.

Ziva sighed then redirected her attention back to her paperwork, annoyed.

"I need someone to go to the concert with me tonight, I have two tickets-"

"No." Said McGee.

"and it doesn't start till 11:00-"

"No."

"so it will be a late night, especially for a school night-" Said Abby.  
"No."  
"and you can pick me up-"

"Abby! He said, no!" Ziva helped.

"Abby looked perplexed, "What do you mean, no McGee?"

"Not happenin.'" Said McGee.

"But...McGee?" She crossed her arms in front of her chest with a pout.  
"I have work to do Abs." McGee squinted as he locked his gaze on the monitor and did not allow Abby one more glance of his attention.

"Ummpff." Abby stomped her foot then left the bullpen. Tony had hung up the phone then eyed Ziva. They both shrugged to each other then resumed their work.

Within minutes, Louise from accounting strolled in. She glanced towards Tony to see if his eyes followed her as she deliberately swayed her hips. She coyly smiled when she saw that he was then sauntered to his desk. "I hope we're still on for tonight." She held a slip of paper, "Here's my number-"  
"Oooo. You might want to rethink your plans for tonight, Louise." Tim had raised his eyebrows with skepticism, his temperament serious.

"Now why is that?" Said Louise, interested.  
"Yeah. Probie. Why is that?" Asked Tony as he half-stood to be able to see him over Louise's shoulder.

"You might want to ask him about the antibiotics he has been on." Tony startled then began to whip his index finger across the front of his neck while he mouthed the word "no," over and over again towards Tim, but his probie only ignored him.

"I didn't think much of it when I heard him call it in over the phone to the pharmacy, but then I found out it was a cream and he leaves his desk three times a day at the same times to go to the bathroom and the tube of medicine accompanies him."

Tony was a deep shade of red at this point as he suspiciously slid an object under his hand across his desk to its edge. There was a soft thump when something hit the carpet. Tony wore a nervous smile as a tube of medicine rocketed out from under his desk and slowed to a spinning stop into the middle of the bullpen. Tony was perplexed when he realized he had just kicked the accusative object out into broad daylight and moaned. Ziva hopped up from her chair to retrieve it.

McGee hadn't skipped a beat as he continued with his story. "So I would guess it needs to be administered in a private area, because if you know Tony, he'd just apply it right here in the middle of the bullpen and make a big production of it if he didn't want to keep his ailment discreet."

Ziva stood in the middle of the bullpen and held the tube close to her eyes, "Tony? What is Gonorr-" Ziva yelped as she quickly ducked when she realized Tony's Mickey Mouse stapler was in mid-sail and aimed straight towards her head.

Louise slowly turned towards Tony to sneer in disgust.

"But, I…don't, well, not really…It's almost gone." Tony stammered as he fumbled with his nervous, fidgety hands.

"Yeah. Sure it is." Ziva scrunched her nose at him and frowned.

Louise stood then walked towards McGee's desk. He kept his eyes on his monitor as he held out his hand. Louise slipped him the piece of paper with her number scrolled on it then stopped a moment to lean in and briefly kiss him on the cheek. She seductively ran her fingers through his hair as she departed. McGee smiled, smugly with his eyes still on the screen.

Tony's eyes were wide open, his jaw hung frozen with shock. Ziva tilted her head and leered at McGee as she chewed on the end of her pen.

"What is up with him?" Said Tony.  
"I don't know, but whatever it is…I like it." She whispered to herself as she returned to her desk.

Tim had begun to hum to himself. Ziva and Tony both looked at McGee when they heard his hum transform into a song.

"One love... One Heart...Let's get together and feel… all… right. Oh…Oh…Oh…Oh."

"There is a Rasta tone to his song-" Ziva spoke to Tony, her expression filled with intrigue.  
"Bob Marley, Ziva. Tim is singing a Bob Marley song." Tony then developed a keen Clint Eastwood impression, "And I believe thems is fightin' words. You have somethin' to say to me probie? Bring it on, make..my day!"  
McGee ignored the field agent.

"Muh-Gee? Do you need some aspirin, maybe? Or better, yet, maybe you should go see Ducky." Said Ziva.

"I'll see him later. I have a question I need to ask him." McGee leaned an elbow on his desk as he contemplated Ziva from across the room.

Ziva, could feel his eyes on her, ""Yes, Tim." She returned his gaze, color evident in her cheeks.

"Do you think Louise and I would make a good pair?" Ziva bit her bottom lip as she had to look away to conceal her disappointment.

"Tim!" Tony couldn't control his indignation towards Tim's recent stunt any longer. "Do you mind? She was supposed to be my date!"

"What? What's the prob-"  
Tim's anger rose quickly when his head was backhanded from behind. He didn't have the patience for that kind of abuse today with the way his head had throbbed now for the last two hours. He glimpsed towards Gibbs as he walked by the front of his desk. McGee glared at his senior agent as he furrowed his eyebrows and grit his teeth.

"McGee you parked in my spot. What the hell?"

McGee stood, walked around his desk to catch up to Gibbs before he reached his desk and smacked him in the back of the head that simultaneously caused the older man to spill his coffee. Gibbs stopped to turn and face McGee but Tim was already heading back to his desk. Gibbs watched as he calmly took a seat and returned his full attention back to his computer screen. Tim's voice was belligerent. "So….? How do you like it?" Tim did not wait for a reply but snorted. "Yeah. Didn't think so." McGee did not bother to disrupt his gaze on his screen for even a second to see if his actions or words had affected his senior agent.

Ziva and Tony were staring at the two men and could not for the life of them, look away. Gibbs' face reddened as he shook his hand and splashed hot coffee over the carpet and desk. He hadn't moved but squinted as if it would help him see McGee better. He drew a deep breath then looked at McGee as he tilted his head as if a different light would help. McGee ignored him as he pecked away at his keyboard.

"McGee? Are you okay?" Said Gibbs.

Tim slowly faced Gibbs. "What's that suppose to-" Tim felt himself being led away by his arms.

"How about that trip to Ducky's, McGee?" Ziva was on his right side and Tony on his left.

"Ziva, I'll see him later-" Said Tim.  
"Well, Ducky misses you, you should really pay him a visit."  
"Really Ziva? He misses me?" Said Tim.

"Oh, believe me he does." Said Tony.  
"Well, if that's the case I suppose I could go now." Tony assisted Ziva until they reached the elevator doors.

"Uh, you got this?" Tony spoke quietly to Ziva. She nodded with assurance.

Tony returned to his desk with Gibbs close by as together they watched the elevator doors close. The last they saw was McGee backed up against the far wall of the elevator, sliding to the floor and Ziva standing in front of him, chewing on her thumbnail as she stared straight ahead.

"If Ducky says Tim is okay after he checks him out, I want you to go home with him and spend the day with him. I'll be by tonight."

"Ya know boss, I bet Tim just got into his grandmother's brownies-"  
Gibbs peered at Tony before he left to buy another coffee, "Ducky did say they are "out of this world." He shrugged, a corner of his mouth raised.

Tony softly snorted and looked at the floor as he returned to his desk.


	2. Chapter 2

Ziva stared at the closed elevator doors, biting her thumbnail. "Muh-Gee...I've wanted to talk to you privately for some time now...Uh, it's-" She drew in a deep breath then raised her shoulders to her ears tensely then dropped them.

"You know...McGee. You seem different to me these days...Not only today but for a while now... I now see you in a different light." She rolled her eyes, 'Get a hold of yourself' she thought, 'You sound ridiculous'.

"So…I was thinking-" She heard a soft snore and turned, surprised to see that he had curled himself into the corner of the elevator and was out cold. "McGee?" She darted in front of him, crouching then smiled. His face leaned against the wall, his mouth gaped and a small line of drool was finding its way down to his chin. She reached over and wiped his face then sighed. "Maybe a conversation for another time, my friend. Yes?"

The elevator bell rang and his eyes popped open. He barely noticed her crouched in front of him as he scurried to stand, having trouble getting his footing, the soles of his shoes slippery against the worn carpeting. "Ducky?!"

"Uh, oh." Ziva frowned at the hostile tone in Tim's voice. "This could be interesting." She placed her hands on her bent knees to push off of and stand then followed him into autopsy.

Ducky was dressed, complete in his surgical gown and gloves, shoe covers, face shield and cloth cap while focused on a dead body. "To what do I owe this pleasure, Timothy? Mr. Palmer told me Tony called while I was in the 'little boys' room' using his exact term but not one I-" Ducky flipped up the face shield and turned to find a fuming McGee towering over him. His hair was sticking up on one side from where he had dozed against the wall of the elevator and his chest heaved. He had a crazy…'Jack Nicholson', portraying that crazy character in 'The Shining', look about him, a movie reference that would have even impressed Anthony. The pupils in Tim's big, green eyes were remarkably dilated, offering Ducky a glimpse into his current state of being.

"Oh, my." Ducky spoke quietly.

Ziva and Palmer could detect the anger in McGee's body language, stepping closer and preparing to protect the older man if McGee was to decide to lash out for whatever reason, not yet known.

Palmer stood behind McGee and grasped his upper arms, restraining him then nervously dropped his hands with doubt then grabbed them again. He was obviously flustered, his face a deep red, sweat instantly covering his forehead.

Ziva just placed a gentle hand on her friend's arm, "Tim? What is it? What has got you so riled up?"

Tim ignored Ziva and Palmer's advances and began to slap his hands over the pockets of his pants and jacket then shirt, earnestly searching for the mysterious entity that may resolve their question. Palmer's grasp on Tim's biceps were just a minor restriction as his arms moved, diligently.

"Where did I put it…?" he glanced over his body, confused then grinned when he felt the bulge in his shirt, chest pocket. He whipped out a black-spotted leopard-print thong then held it up. "Does this by chance look familiar to you?" He whipped it towards Ducky's face but snapped it back, still holding it up, for Ziva and Palmer to view.

Ziva scrunched her nose in mild disgust and Palmer began to stammer and gulp. "How, how, how can you, uh…be sure those are Dr. Mallard's?"

"I was visiting my grandmother last night and I found…**THIS…**creeping out from under the couch. When I read the tag stitched to the seam it read "Surgical Uniforms Inc." Judging by the print and style you chose, I would have to guess you had plans for one wild and crazy night…At my grandmother's." Tim scowled at Ducky.

Palmer began to chuckle, "That's funny, because I was thinking of purchasing that same piece of undergarment when I was ordering my surgical scrubs, but…I…Uh-" Palmer's expression instantly became serious as he gulped when he noticed McGee had turned to glare at him. He shook his head, frowning as he tugged on the seat of his pants, "But, I couldn't get past the thought of the constant wedgie I'd be experiencing when working…" His sentence transformed into a mass of mumbles as he looked away from the small group scratching his head.

Ducky interrupted, placing a pacifying hand on Tim's shoulder to gain his full attention. "My dear boy…your grandmother is a very capable, intelligent woman. She possesses an admirable judge of character that other women, I'm sure, envy. I assure you…there is no need to worry about our relationship. We are two, very wise… very old people who have come to a point in our lives where we finally have a grasp of what exactly it is that we desire. And I desire her…I _really _do like your grandmother, Timothy. I do my best to treat her with the utmost level of respect and always ask her approval prior to any of my…may I say, very extraordinary, sexual moves-"  
Tim held up a hand, "Okay, okay, Duck. Stop right there. No need for further explanation. You passed my test and you _both_ have my blessing."

Palmer released his half-hearted grasp on McGee's arms and everyone released a large sigh of relief followed by a chuckle.

"Well, that was resolved quickly and civilly." said, Ziva.

"Yeah…This is a big load off my mind." Tim yawned as he stepped closer to a clear table and leaned against it, "Ducky, all I wanted to do-" He yawned, again. "-was to make sure you had her best interests at heart-" Tim rubbed his eyes, the adrenaline quickly leaving his body. "and as far as I can see, it would seem you do." Tim smiled at the man, his eyes heavy and sleepy. He reached back and placed both hands on the table then hiked up his haunches onto its surface.

"Oh, there is no need for worry young man. That is my top one priority when it comes to your grandmother. But now that that is cleared up may we address the reason Anthony called earlier and have a looksy-loo at you? Feel free to stretch out on the table-"  
Tim listened to the doctor's suggestion and obliged, "Well, if I could just close my eyes for a moment, Duck, I won't be in the way…you should really get better lights installed in here, the halogens can make your head spin."

Ducky was now standing over Tim checking his vitals and the rest of the group had gathered around Tim and the doctor. McGee yawned big, his eyes tearing up until they ran down his temples into his ears tickling him. He rubbed the back of his hands against his ears, "I'm sure Tony was pulling your leg….I'm fine." Tim's stomach growled but he was unaffected by the embarrassing deep rumble that filled the resonating room.

"Timothy. Anthony informed Mr. Palmer that you were taking an antibiotic for your ears. If this is true, I can't believe you skipped breakfast chancing the ill-effects of nausea from the meds."  
"Well not entirely, Duck. I sneaked a few of Penny's…" Tim's head rolled to the side as a small snore escaped him, the same sound Ziva had heard not much earlier.  
Ducky gasped bringing his attention to the small group close by, as they looked back alarmed.

"What is it doctor?" said Palmer.

Ducky ignored his assistant, shining his penlight into Tim's eyes. "Aahh."

"Ducky?" Ziva slightly stamped her foot, impatient. "What?"

Ducky hesitated, giving Tim one last look before he answered. "I believe Timothy is stoned out of his gourd." They all watched Tim as he fell into a deep sleep.

xxxx

Images of the team flickered and flashed like any other dream, but this time they were strong and overpowering, as he relived the Director's murder as if it was happening for the first time. His sleep was fitful and restless as his facial expressions coincided with the actions he was experiencing. His heart rate was accelerated and his breath was tight and constricted as he kicked and rolled in his sleep, frequently thrashing out.

His short, curt outbursts were real and emotionally draining. He relived phrases like; on the DL and burned alias and heard names like Special Agent Decker, Viggo and Moscow. In the background he could make out the sound of a constant church bell and crow squawking. When he realized he was in the bullpen and Ziva was sitting at her desk in her bikini, he couldn't help but gawk at her, confused why no one else noticed her improper attire. He had to admit, she looked good under the relentless glare of the bullpen lights, her tanned body creamy brown and smooth.

Tony sat at his desk and kept slamming his fist into his open palm as he glared at him from across their desks. Tim was tired and wanted to be somewhere else, preferably home in his bed but Gibbs barked orders and insisted he stay to find the information he wanted.

He was angry, more angry than he ever felt before and could feel it twist and tighten chest, his tense jaw ached as his teeth ground. Once again, he was playing everyone's human punching bag. Even Ziva stood over his desk with her arms crossed over her chest with malice in her eyes. He stayed strong and calm and took it. He knew he was ready if it should come to blows with Tony. And if it did…he knew without a doubt, Tony would have been floored within seconds.

"You son-of-a!"

He opened his eyes and Tony was leaning over him, pinning his wrists over his head onto the bed.

It took a few moments for him to even come close to understanding what was happening. "Tony? What are you doing? Where am I?" He tried to calm his heavy breathing as his heart pounded against his chest.

"You're in my place. You were swinging wild punches in the air. You were bound to dislocate your shoulder or do something else to hurt yourself. Glad one didn't connect with my head, you would have floored me. That'd be embarrassing, if you did it while you were sleeping." Tony rolled his eyes with a smile.

Tim was more concerned with the fact his shirt was wide open and he was lying in Tony's bed.

"Why is my shirt unbuttoned?" Tim noticed a fan whirring on a nearby table.  
"You were sweating bullets. You were having bad dreams and …well, I thought it'd be a good idea to help cool you off."

As Tim watched Tony speak, vestiges of the profound images he dreamed and the emotions they conjured up clouded his thoughts and feelings towards his SFA. The last thing he needed was to be up-close-and-personal with this guy so he turned away, rolling onto his stomach and pulling the pillow over his head. The dream had been too vivid and daunting to shake off quickly. He was still disoriented from the abrupt way he awoke and needed some distance from Tony.

"What's the matter?" said Tony.

Tim could hear the hurt in his voice reminding him of…well…how vulnerable he could be at times. His nagging indignation caved slightly. "Bad dream. I, uh…need a moment to get myself together."

"Ducky diagnosed you as 'heavily stoned'. You have to be careful when you eat Penny's brownies."  
Tim lifted his head and turned to Tony, quickly, perplexed. "My grandmother bakes hash brownies?"  
Tony grinned, "Your grandmother is cool. My grammy plays bingo on Wednesday nights. That's as exciting as it gets for her."

"Penny could get arrested!"

"Chill McCheech. She doesn't sell them."

"Oh." Tim relaxed a bit.

"We were wondering…Well, Gibbs and I were…and Ducky, since you never drink, you never unleash all those angry feelings you've pent-up towards us for the rotten things we may have done to you over the years. It's possible all those… wrongdoings we've done that you've been harboring over time have …you know… surfaced. I gotta ask…well, Ducky wants me to, is there something I did to hurt you…ever? I know Gibbs has his head slaps and gruff personality but have I ever hurt you in some way?"

Tim sarcastically huffed. Tony was really asking, after all these years, if he _**ever**_ did anything that hurt him? He knew he wasn't perfect and he's sure he's hurt Tony's feelings at times while working with him but did he really have to ask if there was _**anything**_?

"Do you want to know what the dream I just had was about?" asked Tim.

Tony nodded enthusiastically.

"It was when Director Shepperd was gunned down."

"Oh." Tony sighed and looked towards the floor running his hands down his thighs. "Yeah, I remember that time, clearly." Tony answered sheepishly. "When I look back I realize I was feeling-"  
"Pretty sorry for yourself? Guilty…maybe? And just maybe you took it out on the people around you." said Tim.

"Yeah…About that-"  
"Don't you think we were all feeling pretty bad about the whole thing?" said Tim.  
"Well, yeah, but-" said Tony.

"Doing that whole macho, 'Taking off your coat' scene. What was that?"

"Tim. I'm sorry. I should have talked to you about it. We were assigned to watch Jenny and protect, but she ordered us to take the day off. I wanted to enjoy myself. Rented a red Ford Mustang GT 500, wanted to cruise…" Tony became dreamlike then shook his head. "But Ziva kept pestering, 'something's wrong', 'we have to tail her' but I kept putting a kibosh on it. I was responsible for the Director and Ziva wanted to tail her…and well…I didn't and guess what."

"Tony. You were just following her orders-"  
"Lemme tell you somethin', Tim. If you, or Gibbs or Ziva or, I don't know, Frank in the mailroom was to ever give me those same orders after what I know now-"  
"You'd ignore them?"  
Tony nodded. "I'm sorry kid, that I treated you like shit."

Tim was quiet, pondering what he said. "If you had made a move that day…I would have floored you."

Tony laughed, "Uh, yeah, right."  
Tim didn't smile until Tony realized he was serious. "Just remember, Tony that we're on the same team." Tony placed a hand on Tim's back.

"You got it, Tim." He winked. "Now whatdaya say to a pizza?"

"Nah…I'm the one with the munchies. Chinese."


End file.
